


In The Hands Of The Enemy

by WordsAblaze



Series: Whumpskier [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Hurt/Comfort, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Kidnapping, Mages, Multi, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Protective Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Restraints, no beta we die like jaskier doesn't, why have a love triangle when you can have an ot3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:41:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26776789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsAblaze/pseuds/WordsAblaze
Summary: There are good mages, bad mages, and annoyingly cunning mages who know exactly how to make a witcher, a bard, and a sorceress painfully uncomfortable... day two of whumptober.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Whumpskier [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949428
Comments: 8
Kudos: 106





	In The Hands Of The Enemy

**Author's Note:**

> day two and i'm already struggling with summaries, oh boy...  
> today's pairing: geralt/jaskier/yennefer  
> prompts used: pick who dies / collars / kidnapped

The first thing he notices is a splitting headache.

And then the heavy touch of metal on his skin.

“Took you long enough to wake up,” Yennefer says and even though his own eyes have yet to open, he’s almost certain she’s rolling hers. 

“It’s not like you were much better, darling,” Jaskier adds just as Geralt blinks with a soft wince.

The last thing he remembers is the three of them in a tavern. Jaskier had just finished performing and they’d sat down for a drink, at which point his memory goes hazy and he can’t even recall who’d teased whom first. 

“Unless you have a way to prove how long you were awake before me, I’m going to pretend I can’t hear you,” Yennefer replies.

“What happened?” Geralt asks, only getting more confused by the two of them simply bickering when they’ve clearly been kidnapped or something.

When he glances over them, he can’t help the fury that builds up inside him. Yennefer’s hands are cuffed much like his own and there’s a ring of metal around Jaskier’s neck. Chains connect their respective metal restraints to the walls behind them, suggesting that whoever is responsible knows what they’re doing. 

“There was something in the ale,” Jaskier explains. 

“And the cuffs are blocking our magic,” Yennefer adds.

Geralt groans.

“And one of you is going to die,” an unfamiliar voice adds.

All three of them turn to the door, greeted by the sight of a mage that has no right to be smiling as happily as he is. 

“Oh gods, not this whole thing again,” Jaskier mutters, then turns to the mage. “Tell me, are you or are you not aware that you’ve just kidnapped two of the most powerful individuals on the continent?”

Both Geralt and Yennefer turn to him, irritated that he hadn’t included himself as if he doesn’t have the power to influence the mind and opinion of almost anyone he meets. 

“Oh, I’m well aware,” the mage replies, walking over to Jaskier and crouching beside him, “and that’s why I’m going to ask you something very important.” 

Jaskier scoffs. “Would you like me to plant a specific flower over your grave?” 

“I want you to pick who dies.” 

Jaskier’s expression collapses as he glances between the mage and the two people he holds dearest.

“Why bother with all of this?” Yennefer snarls at him, knowing Jaskier well enough to know he’d rather die a dozen times over than make such a choice. 

The mage just smiles again. “I don’t need both of you but I couldn’t pick, and bards are known for being able to make the right choices.” 

“And what happens if I refuse to make a choice?” Jaskier asks, his voice oddly small.

Geralt watches as the mage’s expressions switches from amused to unpleasantly smug. He clicks his fingers and pain fills the room.

The cuffs around Geralt’s hands start to burn and he hisses, clenching his jaw as Yennefer groans, clearly suffering from the same change. Both of them share a horrified look before their eyes widen and they turn to Jaskier, who lets out a choked whimper as the collar around his neck starts to heat up, instinctively reaching for it only to pull away when he risks his fingers being burned. 

“Stop it!” Yennefer shouts, glancing between the two of them. 

Geralt’s eyes lock with Jaskier’s and he pulls on his cuffs without thinking, cursing when that only burns him more. He can’t imagine how it must feel for Jaskier, whose life and livelihood both depend on his voice and thus his neck staying unharmed. 

“He can’t make a choice if he can’t speak!” Geralt yells, even though that’s not strictly true.

Either way, the mage nods and clicks his fingers again, all three of them sighing with relief as the burning fades. Jaskier groans quietly as he folds over, his forehead pressed to his knees. 

“Jaskier?” Geralt all but whispers. 

“I’ll give you until sundown. I’m sure you can guess what happens if you haven’t managed to pick,” the mage taunts before leaving.

Jaskier coughs as soon as he’s gone, lifting his head up and blinking away the tears that neither Yennefer nor Geralt comment on. He glances between them and shakes his head. “I can’t do it, I’m sorry. I can’t…” 

Yennefer curses. “He knows what makes us strongest. My magic, your strength, and your words,” she says, looking at each of them in turn, “but I don’t recognise him.” 

“I don’t care who he is, I care that he ends up dead,” Geralt says, hating the way Jaskier is suddenly so quiet because Yennefer may be powerful enough to handle injuring her hands but their bard losing his voice isn’t a possibility any of them want to entertain. 

“On that, we can agree,” Yennefer sighs. 

Jaskier gasps softly, drawing their attention once more. But he’s only trying to gently pull the collar away from his skin and he flinches as they both turn to him. Nobody says anything until Jaskier shifts almost awkwardly. “It’s just, this is almost like the djinn again, isn’t it?”

Geralt winces. 

Yennefer sends him a worried look before smirking at Jaskier. “Maybe you can get out of this by claiming your cat is still on the stove.”

Jaskier chuckles but it’s half-hearted and just makes him whimper, his hands reaching for his neck again. He looks up at them with one of the most miserable expressions Geralt has ever seen. “You know this isn’t a choice I could ever make.”

“We know, Jask, it’s okay,” Geralt reassures him.

Not that it works, because Jaskier just shakes his head, tears filling his eyes once more. “I can’t be responsible for condemning the loves of my life, I would rather cease to exist.” 

“Gods, bard, don’t be so dramatic,” Yennefer mutters, but there’s a strange look in her eyes, a mixture of sadness and fondness and something fierce that belongs within a storm. “You won’t have to pick.” 

Geralt frowns, uselessly tugging on his cuffs. “Do you have a plan?”

Yennefer shrugs. “We have enough time to make one.”

Neither of them are sure they agree with her but they’re not about to let an insignificant mage ruin their lives so simply only nod and start scheming. 

**Author's Note:**

> and then they somehow escaped and went to the coast... if that's what you'd like to imagine. i'll leave it with you :))
> 
> thanks for reading !! toss a kudos/comment? x


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